---
The plane carrying Indah finally landed smoothly at Syamsudin Noor International Airport, South Kalimantan.
Her steps felt heavy as she walked through the terminal corridor, pulling a small suitcase that rolled slowly across the slippery floor.
The long journey from Jakarta, combined with the emotional burden that refused to ease, had drained Indah of all her strength.
Her eyes felt heavy, her shoulders ached, and her heart — was still wrapped in frozen anxiety.
The shuttle from the hotel was already waiting for her. With sluggish steps, Indah got into the car without saying much. She just wanted to arrive and rest as soon as possible.
Half an hour later, she arrived at the hotel — a modest yet comfortable lodging that had been booked by her company.
The hotel lobby was quiet, with only the soft chime of instrumental music filling the air, adding to the peaceful atmosphere of the afternoon.
After checking in and receiving her room key, Indah took the elevator to the third floor.
The hotel corridors felt long and silent, but she was too exhausted to pay much attention.
Upon reaching her room, she opened the door, placed her suitcase in the corner, and immediately collapsed onto the soft bed with its white sheets.
The hum of the air conditioner provided a gentle background to the stillness.
Indah closed her eyes, letting the drowsiness pull her into sleep's embrace.
In the fading edges of her consciousness, Indah thought of many things: the coverage event tomorrow, the possibility of meeting "Mister Faceless," and of course... Bagus.
Bagus's face appeared faintly in her mind, like an old, slow-spinning film reel. His smile. His gaze. His voice, calling her name with such tenderness.
Tears welled up at the corners of Indah's eyes, but she was too weary to wipe them away.
Exhaustion conquered everything.
She drifted off, still clutching all the memories and longing within her sleep.
And for a little while, the outside world — the pain, the confusion, even the unspoken love — froze in silence.
---
In the midst of her restless sleep, still not fully recovered, Indah heard faint voices outside her hotel room door.
"Mr. F's room has been cleaned, Sir!"
a hotel worker said loudly enough.
Indah stirred slightly in bed, her eyes half-open, her mind floating between dream and reality.
"Mr. F...? Mister Faceless?"
Indah mumbled hoarsely, almost as if talking to herself.
She slowly sat up, trying to process what she had just heard. Her heart pounded — was it just a coincidence? Or... was it really the Mister Faceless she had been thinking about all this time?
Driven by a growing curiosity, Indah rose from the bed, though her body still felt heavy.
She walked slowly to the door, pressing her ear against the wooden surface, trying to catch any sound outside.
Silence.
Only the occasional sound of suitcase wheels rolling and hurried footsteps fading away.
Indah grasped the doorknob hesitantly, then peeked through the peephole.
She saw two hotel staff pushing a linen trolley, turning at the end of the corridor.
There was no sign of who this "Mister F" could be.
"Could it be... he's really here?" Indah whispered in her heart.
The urge to find out overpowered her lingering sleepiness.
She quickly grabbed a light jacket, tidied her face a little, and stepped out of her room.
The hotel hallway felt deserted, filled only with the hum of the air conditioning and the echo of her own footsteps.
Indah walked slowly, following the direction where the hotel workers had gone. Her eyes stayed alert, scanning every room number she passed.
At the end of the corridor, she spotted a room door slightly ajar — a small sign hanging from the handle read:
"Room Cleaning in Progress"
From inside, she caught a glimpse of... a black eye mask hanging over a large suitcase.
That mask — exactly like the one Mister Faceless wore during his livestreams!
Indah held her breath.
Her hand gripped her jacket tightly.
"Is it... really him? Bagus?" Indah thought, torn between doubt and hope.
But before she could move closer, a cleaning service worker stepped out, gently pulling the door closed behind him.
"Excuse me, Miss... this is a guest room area. You can't enter here," the worker said kindly.
Indah nodded nervously, backing away a few steps.
Her face flushed — half embarrassed, half overwhelmed.
She returned to her room with heavy steps, her heart pounding like war drums.
After closing the door, Indah leaned against it, shutting her eyes.
One whisper filled her mind:
"I have to know... I have to make sure if he's really Bagus or not."
And from somewhere deep inside, Indah felt something slowly rekindling — a small hope, about a love that had once almost been extinguished.
---
In the quiet of her hotel room, Indah sat at the edge of the bed, clutching her old phone.
Her small hands trembled slightly as she pressed the power button and turned the device back on.
The screen, long dormant, slowly lit up, displaying a flood of incoming notifications.
Indah held her breath, staring at the long list of text messages — most of them from a single name that made her chest tighten: Bagus.
Dozens, perhaps even hundreds of messages had piled up.
They ranged from short texts like:
"Indah, how are you?"
to long, heartfelt confessions:
"I just want to know that you're okay. I'm here, still waiting for you."
Indah bit her lower lip, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.
Her heart screamed to reply, to explain all the reasons why she had disappeared, yet fear held her back.
Afraid of disappointing Bagus. Afraid of reopening old wounds.
As Indah kept staring at the phone screen, suddenly a notification appeared at the top:
"Bagus is typing..."
Indah gasped.
It was as if time froze.
Panicking, without thinking, she quickly pressed the power button again, shutting off the phone as fast as she could, plunging the screen back into darkness.
The hotel room fell silent once more, with only the sound of her heavy breathing filling the air.
Indah stared blankly at the lifeless phone lying on the bed.
"I'm sorry, Bagus..." she whispered almost inaudibly.
"I'm not brave enough yet to reopen this wound."
Indah buried her face in her hands.
A gnawing guilt consumed her, yet she felt powerless to fix anything.
And that night, Indah could only sit in the darkness, battling her own heart — torn between a screaming longing and a fear that sealed her lips shut.
---
The next morning, after a heavy night, Indah woke up earlier than usual.
Thin rays of sunlight slipped through the hotel room curtains, waking her from a sleep that had never truly been restful.
As she was getting ready for her reporting assignment, her new phone buzzed — a live streaming invitation popped up.
The sender: Mister Faceless.
Indah held her breath when she saw the notification.
The title of the livestream was clearly displayed on the screen:
"He's Back Again!"
Indah stared at the screen for a long time, as if trying to uncover a hidden meaning behind those words.
He? Who was he referring to?
Indah's hands felt cold as she unconsciously tapped the screen to enter the livestream session.
The first thing that appeared was a simple studio, dimly lit with a dark background.
In the middle of the screen, a man wearing Mister Faceless's signature black mask sat before a microphone.
The livestream was silent for a moment, broken only by the faint sound of the host's breathing.
Then, Mister Faceless — whoever he was — began speaking with a rough, restrained voice:
> "Sometimes, in the journey of life, we must let go of the ones we love... only to find our way back to them."
Indah froze.
Those words pierced her heart like an arrow.
> "Today... I want to share a story. A story about someone... who never truly left my heart."
Indah's cheeks flushed. Her hands clenched on the small hotel table.
"Bagus? Is this you? Or just a coincidence?" she thought anxiously.
Her eyes remained glued to the screen. Every word, every breath Mister Faceless took felt as if it was meant for her.
As the session continued, Mister Faceless began reading excerpts from a script — about a strong woman, brave enough to fight through every obstacle, even when the world tried to tear her away from her true love.
The sentences were too personal.
Too pointed.
Too eerily similar to Indah's own story.
She covered her mouth with her hand, holding back the sobs suddenly swelling inside her chest.
"Is this... about me?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Yet, despite the surge of emotions, a great fear still haunted her mind:
"What if I'm wrong? What if this is just an illusion — a false hope?"
The livestream went on, and at the end, Mister Faceless said:
> "To the one who might be watching... I'm still in the same place.
I'm still waiting for you, even if you're hiding behind a thousand false names."
Indah jolted.
In that moment, she knew — without a shred of doubt.
It was Bagus.
The world around her blurred, leaving only one voice echoing in her heart:
"I have to see him. I have to find him... before it's too late."
---
Continued...